My Friend
by x snow-pony x
Summary: One-shot written for my best friend to show me how much she means to me and how much she's helped me during the hardest bit of my life. WARNING: Contains mention of suicide.


**A/N So, I kind of had a fight with my sister earlier, and now everyone hates me. And when I finally worked out why we'd fought (which I'm pretty sure is because, despite being two years younger than me, she appears to be better than me at like, everything, and she's always (probably not on purpose) reminding me of that fact with things she says, and I'm getting fed up), I realised why I hadn't been able to work it out immediately.**

 **Because my brain has complete control of itself, and so I have to work out what it's trying to say to me half the time, which is a nuisance.**

 **And then I remembered a conversation me and my best friend had last week, where she was talking about understanding feelings and stuff, and I now agreed with her that it's sometimes very hard.**

 **And then I remembered another conversation we had had when we were just talking about things that were bothering us, and that had reminded me about all the times when things were going wrong for me, and she had just listened. Sometimes she'd given advice, but at times that she couldn't she'd just let me rest my head on her shoulder and talk (and occasionally cry when things got really bad). And I don't think she ever realised just how grateful I was to her for that, but to have someone sticking by you when you feel the world is against you is absolutely amazing, and knowing she was there to talk to when I needed it really helped me through the hard times.**

 **Anyway, seeing as this is starting to look more like a Facebook post than a story, I'll shut up. But this is a story for my best friend, as a thank you for all the times she helped me. :-)**

 **Before you start, I'll warn you that this one-shot mentions suicide. If you don't want to read it, or you've been through it and it'll bring back memories or anything like that, please don't read this: I don't want to upset anyone.**

 **(And yes, even though she doesn't watch TBR, my friend will be forced to read this! XD)**

 **Tracy POV**

I knocked on the door to Maria's house. It was cold and dark outside, but I needed to talk to her.

Really needed to talk to her.

I just hoped she was in.

I breathed a sigh of relief as the door opened and Maria stood there, giving me a smile.

"Hey, Tracy," she said. "Come in."

I gave her a small smile back before I walked into the house.

Maria closed the door behind her, and then gestured for me to go up the stairs. I walked up the wooden staircase, Maria following me, and then we went into the living room.

"You OK?" asked Maria, as we sat down on the sofa together.

I'd told Maria everything that had been going on: the shouting, the panic attacks, the recent self-harm... And through everything she'd just been so supportive, always being there for me when I needed it, whether it was a mega-long email at 11:00 at night, staying awake until 2:00 in the morning because I couldn't sleep, or being there to talk to when I came round to her house, letting me rest on her shoulder so I felt safe and relaxed.

And I knew I had to tell her this.

No one had really taken me that seriously. Cam had been furious when she found me on the phone at 2:00 in the morning, the cat sitting on the table next to me, having just pretty much saved my life. She hadn't got why I'd wanted to do something like that, she couldn't see any point.

But, after that night, after I had my 21st panic attack, I'd reached breaking point.

It was like instinct.

And I couldn't think of anything else to do.

I came back to Maria's living room then, and shook my head slightly, answering her question.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I..." I trailed off, unable to make my mouth say the words. I got my phone out of my pocket. "Can I write it down?"

Maria smiled at me. "Yeah, sure."

I unlocked my phone, and then opened my notes app. I created a new note, and then stopped.

 _Just write it,_ I thought to myself. _Just write the words._

And so I did.

And then I handed my phone to Maria.

And she read what it said.

'I nearly took an overdose.'

I watched as she read it, and then she turned the phone off and put it down, looking at me.

I couldn't hold the tears back anymore.

I leant forward, resting my head on her shoulder. Maria wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me as I began to cry.

Neither of us said anything for a bit. My memory went back to that night: going downstairs after that panic attack, tears streaming down my cheeks, going into the kitchen and seeing Mitzi the cat on the table, going to the medicine cupboard, opening it, and taking out the paracetamol, and then stopping, the packet in my hand.

I'd turned, looked at Mitzi, and realised I couldn't leave her behind. True, she might not like me as much as she liked Cam, but we still loved each other.

And then I had put the packet down.

I'd gone to sit at the table.

And I'd got the phone.

Making that phone call was hard. I looked in Cam's address book for the number for the people I was under to help me with everything that was happening, and found something called 'NHS helpline'. I put the number into the phone, but by the time I'd plucked up the courage to actually press the call button, the number disappeared. I typed it in again, and pressed call.

And then I was told that the number no longer existed, and that I was to dial 111.

I sighed, before doing as I'd been told, and then looked at Mitzi, stroking her.

Someone called Linda answered the phone, and to tell the truth she wasn't that helpful. We spent more time talking about the cat (I'd told her it was just me and the cat when she'd asked if anyone was there with me) than actually sorting anything out.

But at least it stopped me from doing anything.

Apart from stroking Mitzi, that is.

When Cam found me half an hour later, she was angry. She had a go at Linda on the other end of the phone, and then told me that we were going to the hospital.

They didn't do anything either, as it was a Sunday, and we were sent home pretty quickly.

But now, here with Maria, I felt calm. Yes, I was crying, but I was just letting out all the hurt I'd been feeling. And she was comforting me, and it was a nice feeling.

Such a nice feeling I could have stayed there forever.

She was the only person at the moment who, when they gave me a hug, I felt they actually meant it. When she hugged me I felt happier almost straight away, like it was magic.

But then again, Maria was like magic to me.

I'd never had a friend before that had stuck by me like this. I'd first met her four years ago, and then after about a year I hadn't seen her for ages. Two or three years later we had met up again, and it had been great.

Sure, we'd both changed, but our friendship was still strong.

It was almost like we'd never been apart.

And now, me with her, I was glad I'd made sure we stayed friends.

Because she was the best friend anyone could ask for.

Just then her dad walked in.

"Talking about anything interesting up here?" he asked. "Zac's on his computer."

"Dad," Maria said, slightly annoyed. "We're having a private conversation, so leave us alone."

"Alright," said her dad, going to leave the room. He then saw I was crying. "Are you OK?"

I nodded.

"Maria, what have you done?" he asked. "Why is she crying?"

"Dad, go away," said Maria.

"Alright, I'm going," said her dad. He then left the room.

"Sorry about that," said Maria. "He was just being, well, Dad."

I gave a small laugh.

We stayed there for a minute or two more, me feeling calm, safe and relaxed, before Maria spoke up.

"You OK now?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yeah thanks. I feel a lot better."

"Should I walk you to your house?" she asked.

I lifted me head. "Yeah, OK." I'd told Cam I wouldn't be long, so I should probably start making my way back soon.

"Let's go then," said Maria. She got up, then I got up, and then we made our way down the stairs and out of the house.

We walked to mine, just talking about random things, before we stood outside my house.

"Thank you," I said. "I don't think you know how much that meant to me. That was nice."

Maria gave me a smile. "I'm your friend. I should look out for you."

"Yeah, I know," I said. Maria liked getting her own way on things like this; if I argued we could be here all night! "It's just, yeah, I feel a lot better now. Thanks."

Maria gave me a hug and I gave her one back, her giving me a little squeeze.

"Take care," she said.

I gave her a smile. "I will."

I walked up to the house, opened the door, and went inside. I then turned to watch Maria walk away.

And, as she went out of view, I realised something.

I was very lucky to have a friend like her.

 **A/N Hope you liked it. I know this wasn't that detailed, but I wanted to show my friend how much she means to me, and all of these events will come into my story 'No Matter How Hard it Gets' when I get to them. Please review. :-)**


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